The Sister(186)

Out on the street, she familiarised herself with where she was. She couldn’t see a telephone booth anywhere, but there was a McDonalds only a few hundred yards away. She ran all the way, stopping outside to compose herself, and then walked in to steal a mobile phone from a young mum too busy feeding her child to notice.

She dialled 999 and asked the operator for the police.

‘Listen, my name is Eilise Staples. I’ve just escaped from a kidnapper.’

The operator tried to slow her down.

‘There’s no time! Two women are about to be murdered. You’ve got to hurry!’ She gave the address, adding, ‘It’s on the seventh floor, number seventy-one.’

She calmly returned to the table where the young mother continued to sit and bent down to the floor. She held out the phone she’d retrieved.

‘I just found this on the floor, is it yours?’





At the railway station, Eilise debated whether to bunk the fare, but decided she couldn’t afford to fall into the hands of the authorities. Not yet. She cadged enough money to buy a ticket and within half an hour was on a train heading for Romford. The journey would be a short one.

Once on the train, Eilise recalled how she’d obtained her mother’s address.





She’d stared at the piece of paper for ages, not quite believing she held the key to her future in her hands. She memorised it, then terrified she might forget, decided to hide it, but where?

The last thing she wanted was for her foster parents to find it. She moved it around, trying several places, starting with between the pages of a book, but, after putting it back on the shelf, she stared at it for a while, not happy. What if her sister came in and took that book, choosing it from all the others on the shelf? Her eyes settled on the dressing table. Squatting, she pulled out a drawer and held it up, looking underneath. She could tape it to the underside. It would have to be at the bottom, otherwise the clothes from a lower one could snag it. She put the note in her pocket and went to look for some tape in the kitchen.

Staring out of the train window, Eilise dug her fingernails into the fabric of her jeans, pinching the flesh of her thigh beneath, hoping the hurt would stifle her stream of thought, but she was too far gone to be able to stop.

Her foster father had come up behind her, uncomfortably close. Pulling away, she noticed he had this funny expression in his eyes; she’d seen it more and more lately. She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t like it. She continued opening drawers, systematically rummaging through before moving on to the next one.

‘What are you looking for?’ His voice was low, guttural.

‘I’m just…I’m hoping to find some sellotape.’ Then, realising he’d probably ask what for, she added quickly, ‘The binding on my homework book is coming apart.’

‘Well, you should have said. I’ve got something that will do the job nicely, I think.’ He reached up into the top cupboard over the coffee machine and grabbed a thick roll of metallic coloured tape. ‘Let’s go and have a look, shall we?’

She recalled it as if it were yesterday. She tried to fob him off, the colour was wrong for a schoolbook. Her friends would laugh, but he was having none of it. He was now in her room.

‘Now let’s have a look at that book, shall we?’

She opened her bag and pulled it out.

He looked closely from the roll of tape to her. ‘You’re lying to me,’ he said. ‘You weren’t that desperate to find tape to fix a book that’s still in your bag.’ His eyes gleamed. He seemed to know something.

She blushed. The tape rasped as he pulled a strip from the roll and tore it off.

‘You know this stuff has all kinds of uses.’ His eyes had become defocused as he moved towards her. He stuck the tape over her mouth. Her turn had come. Her foster mother was out. She realised in her excitement over finding the address, she hadn’t yet seen her sister come home.

When it was over, he pulled the tape from her lips roughly. ‘Only way to do it and that’s quickly.’

The tape took a small piece of skin from her lip and made it bleed. Too numb to feel pain, she glanced about her; not quite believing what had just happened was real. Touching her mouth, she looked at the thin smear of blood on her fingers. He adjusted his clothing and leaning down to see in the mirror, smoothed his hair.

‘It’ll be better next time, if you’re a good girl, we won’t use the tape.’ He offered her a tissue he’d taken from his pocket. Eilise turned away sharply.

‘Don’t get any ideas about telling anyone,’ he said with an air of menace. ‘If you say anything, I’ll kill you and tell them you must have run away.’ At the door, he paused. ‘If your mother asks about the lip, you accidentally bit it. Got that?’

As soon as he left the room, she broke down. Silent tears blurred her vision, and she trembled, fighting back the urge to scream. She looked for the patched jeans that were once her favourites. They didn’t fit anymore, so she stitched a patch made from a silky scarf to form a pocket on the inside and taking the note, placed it inside. She stitched it closed, sealing it in. Before turning the jeans out the right way, Eilise wiped herself on them and then hung them in the farthest dark corner of her wardrobe. There they would stay until she needed them. She was just fourteen.